


Hot Chocolate

by Emily_F6



Series: Febuwhump 2020 [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, febuwhump 2020, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: Tony has nightmares while he and Peter are on the run.  Peter tries to help.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664710
Comments: 1
Kudos: 100





	Hot Chocolate

Peter rolled over on the full-sized bed, burrowing into the pillows that smelled vaguely like smoke. Why did they smell like smoke, he wondered, then let the thought go. It was still dark out, and the alarm hadn't gone off yet. In the bed across from him, Mr. Stark slept silently, and Peter hoped he didn't snore and wake the man before slipping back into sleep.

A cry woke him. Jerking upright, he looked around the room, only to find Mr. Stark still asleep, rolling over, blankets twisted around his legs. Blinking in the dark, Peter started to reach out, then paused when Mr. Stark grunted in his sleep, arms jerking. Deciding to take a risk, he rolled out of bed, padding the three feet over to Mr. Stark.

"Um, Mr. Stark?"

The man made a soft whimpering noise, flinching away from something before rolling back into his back, face twisted in fear. The clock between their beds told Peter it was 3:35am and he ran his hand through his newly buzzed hair. Mr. Stark too had newly short hair, buzzed almost as short as Peter's, and was without his trademark goatee. In the moonlight from the partially open window, he looked like a different man, which, Peter thought, was the point. Still, it had been weird.

All they had to do was wait for Rhodey. Until then, they would be going from mediocre (to Mr. Stark...Peter was fine with them) hotel to mediocre hotel, pretending to be tourists or on a father/son road trip. And had it not been for the constant fear of discovery, Peter would have been having fun! As it was, he was trying to deal with the constant background anxiety while also trying to act like a normal sixteen-year-old. Mr. Stark had seemed to have a better handle on things, keeping Peter grounded while assuring him that things were going to be okay. That he was going to fix this.

And in the meantime, he waited.

In the bed, Mr. Stark made another noise in his sleep and Peter decided he had to intervene. Mr. Stark had woken him from nightmares more than once, even before they'd gone on the run a week or so ago, and Peter felt he owed Mr. Stark that much. Maybe the man wouldn't want to talk about his nightmares, and that would be okay. But Peter didn't want him to have to suffer through them alone. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Mr. Stark's shoulder, leaning in close to whisper.

"Mr. Stark? Wake up." He shook the man's shoulder, gripping it just firmly enough to wake him, then jumped back, but not quickly enough.

Usually, he would have been able to dodge the fist that came flying at his face. In truth, he was just too stunned, and he saw starbursts behind his eyes when the fist made contact with his nose, a soft 'snap' making him jerk his head to the side, his hand flying up to cover his face and instinctively catch the blood. His eyes immediately began to water, and his whole face ached in an all too familiar way. He'd been punched in the face plenty of times, after all. Just never by Mr. Stark. He felt bad as he staggered back a few steps, sitting hard on the bed as his palm filled with blood, eyes blinking too quickly to try and get rid of all the excess water. On the bed across from him, Mr. Stark stared at him in stunned silence, face pale, one hand half-outstretched.

"I...oh god, Peter...I…"

"It's fine," he said, his voice a little nasally. "I promise, it's fine. I'll be right back." Peter stood, keeping a hand over his face, half so his blood wouldn't get on the carpet and half so Mr. Stark wouldn't have to see his nose. It was fine. He'd gotten a lot worse, and Mr. Stark hadn't meant to hurt him. He knew that. And he would reassure him of that as soon as he got his nose taken care of.

Shutting the bathroom door behind him and feeling just as bad about that, he leaned over the sink and placed his fingers on his nose. "Okay...okay Parker..." He whispered, mostly just mouthing the words. The overhead bathroom fan had come on when he'd turned on the light, which he hoped would cover the sound of his muttering and possibly crying when he put his nose back. "Just do it." Glaring at himself in the mirror and using his fingertips, he counted. "On three. One. Two…" He gasped, biting back a cry of pain as he pushed the bone back together. Swearing under his breath. "There. There, it's back," he reassured himself as if talking to someone else. "It's done. Didn't even hurt that bad." Never mind that his eyes poured water and his nose still bled.

Peter grabbed some tissues and tried to stop the blood, managing after a few moments, then tried to clean himself up. His nose was already swelling, and one of his eyes was darkening, letting him know that he'd have a black eye in a few hours. Maybe they could stay in the room another night, just long enough for it to fade away. They were lucky that he had advanced healing. The last thing they needed was something that would draw more attention to them.

Once he'd cleaned his face up and looked mostly presentable, he stepped out of the bathroom, pausing when he saw Mr. Stark sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. Peter knew that look...knew how guilty he must feel over something that hadn't even been his fault. Glancing around the room as if for answers, he stopped when he saw the white paper packets of Swiss Miss hot chocolate. Flipping on the lamp by the dresser, he grabbed the electric tea kettle, carried it into the bathroom, and filled it with water.

As he placed the kettle back on the stand and turned it on, Mr. Stark sat silently behind him, refusing to look up. That was fine. Peter busied himself with finding two styrofoam cups, pulling them out of their plastic sleeves, and then pouring two packets worth of hot chocolate into each. It was bad enough he had to make hot chocolate with water. At least with two packets, they'd sort of get the chocolate flavor.

Once he'd assembled them, he carried the two cups over to the bed, sitting gingerly beside Mr. Stark and holding one of the cups out. "Careful. It's hot."

Mr. Stark stared at the drink for a moment before reaching out and taking it with a shaky hand. For a moment, the two existed in silence. But Peter couldn't let Mr. Stark stew in his guilt...this wasn't his fault.

"It barely hurts. You really ought to take up training with Steve if that's as hard as you can hit. No offense, but that was kind of pathetic, Mr. Stark. I mean, I know you're getting old but…"

The man sat his hot chocolate on the bedside table, then reached out to wrap his arms around Peter, careful of the drink in the boy's hand. Peter put his own arms around the older man, cheek resting on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Pete."

"It's okay. I promise, it really doesn't hurt. It was an accident. I shouldn't have startled you." He hesitated, then went on, taking another chance. "I thought...I wanted to wake you because you were having a...a nightmare and…"

"He was going to take you," he whispered, voice breaking. "I couldn't stop him...he was going to take you. I thought you were…" The man trailed off, shaking his head.

"He's not going to find us." His voice was sure, despite his own doubts. "Colonel Rhodes and Pepper are going to fix it and Ross will leave us alone and we'll be fine." It was the same thing Mr. Stark had said to him on countless occasions, and the man hugged out a little laugh.

"That's right, kiddo."

Peter sat up when Mr. Stark removed one of his arms, keeping the other slung around Peter. The two drank their hot chocolate in as silence that wasn't quite so heavy anymore until Peter decided to lighten the mood just a little more.

"Can we get pancakes for breakfast?"

Mr. Stark snorted. "You think I'm letting you eat sugar with a side of sugar for breakfast when I have to spent the whole day in a car with you?"

"Please? I'm injured." He made his eyes wide and Mr. Stark laughed out loud, shoving his shoulder so gently that Peter barely felt it.

"Go to sleep, Spiderling."

The next morning, Mr. Stark let him sleep until almost eleven, and they had pancakes for brunch.


End file.
